


House of the Gods

by FallenInDreams



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Romance, Smut, Supernatural Elements, beasts but not bestiality, no swordplay sorry just playing with Gaara lol, not spoiling anymore with more tags, well kinda medieval
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenInDreams/pseuds/FallenInDreams
Summary: What do you do when you believe the gods have sent you a gift? You unwrap him of course. GaaSaku one-shot. Extreme AU. Rated Mature for a reason.





	House of the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot I've been working on for a while now. Partially inspired by some elements from Those Whom the Gods Desire by errihu. Mainly the "gods and their temples" aspect, though not the guiding force in this one-shot, it's still featured. Anyway, TWtGD is a great fic if anyone hasn't read it yet. :)

.:.

Night time in the forests that surrounded her home was the best time to hunt.

The stars were beautiful and clearly defined, and her prey could only hide for so long under the glow of the moonlight. The canopy did little to aid what she hunted; the hindrance of the dense vegetation was a welcomed challenge, however. She loved having to work for her meal.

And in her bestial form, on all fours, prowling, and with her chakra flowing luminescently through her body, she was a terrifying sight to behold.

Everything feared or was spellbound by her.

And if the hunt went poorly, she could use her chakra to sense her surroundings better, sending pulses of energy out to soothe and calm her prey. It was a last resort, as Sakura Haruno enjoyed the hunt – the race to the finish line of digging her claws into flesh – too much to play so easily.

The smell of desperation and sweat; Sakura lifted her head and growled, excited. The air was permeated with this new scent; she'd never smelt anything like it. It was foreign, but achingly familiar at the same time. It didn't smell human, but it also didn't match any animal she'd had before; moving gingerly but purposefully toward her position.

But it _couldn't_ be human.

The shinobi that patrolled the forests knew better than to wander into this area during her hunts.

So, she set off at a brisk pace, racing as fast as she could in such close quarters; chasing after this unfamiliar yet delectable scent. She lowered her snout to the ground, where the scent was strongest.

Whatever it was, she was going to enjoy savouring that taste.

There was a patch of light three hundred metres in front of... whatever it was. It stopped just short of it and Sakura lifted her head to see her prey; through the dew of the forest from the seasonal rain, she saw him.

_Him._

Despite his appearance, Sakura knew immediately he wasn't normal.

She skidded to a halt, suddenly wary, though every fibre in her being was telling her he was here for _her_. It seemed too impossible to believe. But she'd never had trouble believing in the impossible.

Bright, amber eyes staring back at her. They were inhuman.

Sakura stared back at him.

Her own bestial form was mere inches shorter than his, and her eyes glowed brilliantly in the almost darkness as well.

' _Is he pure beast or part human?'_

He looked like a wounded animal.

Was this _really_ her prey?

The gods were toying with her.

Sakura cocked her head to the side; he was limping slightly, and she could smell his blood on the air. He was trespassing and had clearly paid the price; the border sentries were vicious. He was lucky to be alive.

Hm.

But how _was_ he still alive?

Beasts were no burden to the shinobi who patrolled these forests. They'd seen their fair share of unholy creatures in their seasoned years. Their jobs were dangerous and strange. So, he _had_ to be something special.

' _Not prey after all.'_

Not the edible kind, anyway.

An inhuman roar.

He wanted to play, huh?

Sakura shifted into a more dominant stance growling at the intruder, leaving no doubt that she would defend herself if he attacked.

The creature attacked.

Sakura evaded effortlessly, pivoting her quadrupedal form sideways; he was more damaged than she thought, gracelessly collapsing next to her.

The humans believed she was one with the beast in this form. That it controlled her. That her hunts were a side affect of [the animal/god within]. But she knew better. Sakura had complete control over her instincts.

Sakura ignored the call to pounce and devour; for either a hunting or sexual reason, the cry was strong. That was how she suddenly knew what he was. Something, or someone, she had been told _should not be here_.

In her moment of hesitation, she didn't see the blur of red; he recovered quickly, scrambling to his feet and hooking one leg over hers, pushing her to the ground. His body weight was crushing; slick with blood and sweat, he growled down at her, clearly satisfied with himself. But he hadn't counted on her strength.

Sakura dug her claws in him and, with unnatural strength, forced him off of her; the ache and strain pushed her muscles to their limit.

He was heavier than he looked.

With a final cry, she sent him crashing into the nearest tree. She stood up, shakily, balancing as best she could on all fours, and braced herself for his next attack. But it didn't come. He looked completely drained and Sakura sniffed the air, realising his chakra was completely spent.

' _Thank the gods the shinobi wore him down.'_

She was confident in her skills, but even weakened, he was too much of an unknown. She padded over to him, settled her weight on top of him to keep him from escaping, and used her snout to nudge him gently; an unspoken command to release his form and reveal himself to her.

She positioned herself so as to not crush him.

And, after a few minutes of glaring, he finally relented; Sakura felt a gentle wave of chakra as he released a shuddering breath, his muscles going slack. He shifted underneath her; his body trembling as the change from beast to human took place.

One second an ethereal beast lay beneath her, and the next, an attractive redheaded man wearing the acolyte uniform of the temple of the land of wind; he stared up at her, his eyes heavy with fatigue, obviously waiting for her to reciprocate. Sakura followed his lead and shifted back into her human form. His eyes widened and the stranger smirked before she took the opportunity to weave the signs to put him to sleep.

It was just as she thought. Her opponent was no mere beast.

Like her, he was one of the gods _chosen_.

.:.

"He cannot be here! Send him away!"

"He's too weak to transport."

"You underestimate the gods, dear sister. He is a _chosen_ , and he will survive if the gods will it."

She heard him wake several times during the night to scream in pain. He was lucky to be alive they said.

And she was in a lot of trouble for saving him.

The rules were that the temples of the gods kept their power over the world in check by gifting a single mortal with their chakra; the chosen became warriors and tools for the whims and desires of the gods, not allowed to marry, to travel beyond the borders of their lands, nor to partake in worldly pleasures unless their god allowed it.

Almost like they were extensions of the gods themselves.

And they most definitely, did _not_ meet each other.

Wars were fought for less than breaking the laws of segregation.

Outside the healer wing of her god's house, Sakura paced, waiting for her mentor to tell her what would be done with the redheaded warrior. This was unprecedented. The house of the gods was so sacred you had to be bathed and scented in holy oils just to be allowed to enter the hallowed halls.

The mere presence of a foreign body in the house would make even the most immoral citizen cringe.

But Sakura felt like this was the will of her god. She didn't feel as though she'd done anything wrong. And if the power of her god lay within her, then surely the matrons should agree that this warrior was _meant_ to come here?

Sakura spun toward the curtain that separated her from the emergency room, once more, running her fingers along the material and trying to resist the urge to peek, while ignoring the disapproving stares of those that bustled about nearby. She didn't care about their jobs or what they thought she should be doing. It was against the rules for her to look in on visitor, let alone one of such high standing, but she could barely contain her impatience; she wanted to speak with him.

' _Fat lot of good that would do.'_

Not just because of the biddies who would undoubtedly bar her path, but also because of the language barrier. She was not fluent in the language of their neighbours and held little hope that he knew her words either. She needed someone to translate but found the idea of someone else being in there when she spoke to him... uncomfortable.

Sakura had no idea what to do.

The curtain billowed, and she stepped backward; the matron that came through gave Sakura a long, hard, angry glare before sweeping out of the room. Her dismissive attitude didn't bother the pinkette anymore – that woman was always harping on about something and bothering someone. She lived to be difficult.

What did matter to her was the next healer to emerge.

And Lady Tsunade cut her off before she could ask. "He's resting."

"Shishou–"

"He can stay until he's healed. But then he has to go. Matron Kame may be a hard arse but she's right about the rules."

Sakura nodded ruefully. "Yes, of course."

"Don't look so down. The rules apply to everyone, you know this."

Sakura frowned. "But he's not like everyone else."

Tsunade glanced back toward her patient, still hidden by the curtain. "You think he's–"

"I sensed it."

Her mentor knew full well what she meant. And the consequences of playing host to such a beast – no matter how temporarily. The older woman closed her eyes for a moment, trying to maintain her composure.

"As did I."

Sakura inhaled sharply, hardly daring to believe her shishou understood. "So... he _is_ like me?"

She knew it of course. It was just nice to get confirmation from someone who had been allowed access to others like her in the past. There had always been the chance he wasn't human at all – demons wore many guises. But... he was at least demonic in behaviour, if not biology. His mode of attack, his lust for blood; she still worried he could kill them all. But despite all this, she felt a connection with him; she'd been taught that all warriors of the gods were different but the same.

Whatever that meant.

"Whatever the gods brought him here for," Tsunade said, choosing to ignore the elation on her protégé's face. "Don't assume you understand. For all we know, he simply lost his way."

Sakura didn't believe that for a second.

But she nodded all the same, and bit her bottom lip, thinking.

He was just like her – a chosen warrior. A tool. An instrument for his god to wield. Like her, he was raised from childhood, or birth, to exist solely at the whims of a deity he knew nothing about. It was all he was allowed to do or _be_. His being _anywhere_ outside of his order was not an accident, let alone in the forests of her country. The lands of wind and fire were enjoying a cease fire, but the involvement of the god warriors into this uneasy peace was a game changer.

Sakura had never met another holy warrior. Her shishou told her the lore surrounding their origins and how they were chosen. That this was _why_ they were born into this world. She reinforced the dangers of these chosen few interacting. They would cause only chaos, she said. They would never be allowed in their god's kingdom.

But there was another lore – one that talked about the warriors one day uniting. Or _reuniting_ , if you believed in the old tales of reincarnation. Sakura did. She believed in it all. Along with the fact that this man's arrival was not the work of accidental forces.

She'd sensed him, out there, even if she hadn't understood it at first. Sakura had felt his bloodlust and scented his body; the aroma of lust was strong in the air, unfulfilled and eager. He yearned for more than this life. Looking into him was like looking into a reflection of herself.

And she wanted _more_.

Sakura blinked heavily, realising her mentor had been talking; talking about righting this off as coincidence.

"... and it's simply..."

"It is no coincidence." Sakura insisted. "It is _fate_."

She licked her lips and swallowed heavily, having found her mouth dry. The gods wanted him to be here. And she was meant to find him. She was sure of it. And that meant only one thing to her.

' _He's mine.'_

.:.

Night fell once more before Sakura put her plan into motion. It was a simple plan, but one that required every ounce of stealth and patience she had. The guards were extra vigilant and there was more staff on duty than usual as she made her way carefully toward the guest wing of the House of the Gods.

The stranger had needed an extra day to recover, which Sakura put to good use; bathing in scented oils and purifying of the mind and soul. This much at least was demanded for her presence in the sanctum; the redhead had been given a suite fit for a sultan.

' _Even the biddies have realised who he is.'_

It would not do to insult the warrior of the wind before sending him on his way. Returning him to his people, both healed and well cared for, was the best move, politically. Even though he had trespassed to get here, and nobody believed he'd simply gotten lost. The border between their countries was quite clear.

She sighed deeply, listening to the distant footfalls of the temple staff and keeping an eye on the chakra of the rotating guards. It was fifteen minutes before either of their rounds gave a window for her to sneak though.

The hallway outside the stranger's room was eerily quiet though, and Sakura quickly disabled the chakra-based security system at the door; she wasn't so good at _placing_ seals, but her first teacher had been a genjutsu type, so she knew how to dispel them easily enough. She pushed on the door gently, slowly sliding it open and keeping an eye out for any traps. The matron both disliked and distrusted her _thoroughly_.

The room was large; she'd been in one of this calibre before, with its four-poster bed and canopy curtains that easily concealed its occupant. But never had she been allowed too far in. The more traditional land of fire bed was flat against the floor and not so lavish; she had always wanted to sleep in one of these fancy ones.

Sakura smiled slightly at that, softly walking over to the curtains; the bed sat upon a raised section of the floor and the open windows nearby let in a cool breeze that had her walking faster. Sakura had the feeling he was watching her, just before pulling aside the curtain; he didn't look surprised to see her. He simply looked contemplative. His eyes followed her movements as she moved closer. In the forest, he'd been wary, almost hungry, but now he watched her pensively. He was sizing her up.

Sakura cleared her throat and held a hand to her chest, emphasising her name as clearly as she could. "Sakura."

He caught on quickly, letting his own name pass like a rumble between his lips. "Gaara."

By the gods she loved his name on his tongue. And that _voice_.

She licked her lips again, feeling more excited. "Gaara?" He nodded. She smiled. "Hi."

He nodded his head again, now watching as she pulled at the cord keeping her robe wrapped around her body. Watching _intently_.

As nervous as she was, Sakura had decided not to think this part through too much. It would only make it worse. So, she tugged gently at the cord, releasing its hold, and parted the soft material without removing her robe completely. It might've made more sense to just drop it and start off completely naked, but she was liking the predatory look on his face; the tease of being able to spy the soft skin between the curtain of her robe. His eyes drank in the sight of her.

Sakura shivered slightly, running her hand along the bed as she inched closer. His gaze didn't waver, however, set firmly on the exposed skin and her feminine curves. She parted the robe further, displaying herself fully to him.

She watched with relief and pride as his eyes darkened, his mouth hung open slightly, and he seemed to be struggling internally. Perhaps debating just grabbing her and taking her right there. It bolstered her confidence, and Sakura dropped the robe to the floor.

Gaara sat up, pulling on the fastenings of the simple wraparound clothes they'd given him; he was a quick learner, it seemed. Sakura climbed up on the bed, noting momentarily just how _comfortable_ this was, as the last of his clothes fell away. She paused for a moment, feeling her face warm at the sight of him nude and aroused. Her body responded eagerly, shivering again; she crawled up to him, placing delicate, nervous kisses along his skin as she went.

His hips bucked lightly, and he groaned.

When they finally came face to face, Sakura stopped. She just stared at him. His body had been chiselled so perfectly by the gods; his face brought the startling fact that he was the most attractive man she'd ever seen into surround sound, 3D vision. His eyes were soulful. His face was soft but defined. He had high cheekbones and a dark rim around his eyes. He looked like he didn't get much sleep, but surprisingly, it didn't take away from his natural looks.

Sakura noticed something she hadn't seen when he was transformed; a kanji symbol on his forehead. She wondered what it meant. And why he had it.

' _Are temple acolytes even allowed to tattoo themselves there?'_

In her musings, she hadn't noticed his impatience; Gaara shifted his legs to entwine with hers. His hands came up to her hips, caressing and squeezing her gently; his hands were sinful, groping her butt and sliding up her body to cup her breasts. She moaned, bucking when his hips rose to meet hers; he tweaked her nipples and Sakura growled, covering her mouth suddenly, remembering they didn't have permission from anyone to be doing this.

' _Who cares?'_

When something felt this good, surely the gods wouldn't begrudge her?

Impatiently, Gaara grabbed her hand that was muffling her cries, and pulled her face down to his. The moment his lips met hers, she was done. Done being quiet. Done caring about being quiet. Her breaths came out ragged and her moans were muffled, but she fought back as Gaara attempted to dominate the kiss. Sakura preferred slow, tantalising touches; she grabbed a fist full of his blood red hair and pulled roughly so that he couldn't take control. She angled her mouth over his to take long, languid mouthfuls of him, enticing him into restraining himself in favour of savouring the moment.

Meanwhile, Gaara was unconsciously grinding at her; their bodies locked with her right leg between his as he clamped his thighs to trap her. Sakura could feel her insides clench and twist as the evidence of his arousal pressed hard and painfully into her stomach.

The friction was doing its job.

She groaned loudly, pulling out of the kiss, and stared into his eyes, remembering the amber that was there the last time she looked; now, soft jade coloured eyes stared back at her. Placid and yet intense at the same time.

She shifted impatiently, and he released his death grip on her legs so that she could straddle him properly. But Sakura stilled for a moment, not letting him pull her down over his straining member just yet. She needed to air a thought first. She needed him to know.

She cradled his head in her hands. "The gods have willed this."

As though he completely understood, Gaara nodded slowly, but didn't otherwise respond. The flushed look on his face told her he was only interested in focusing on one thing right now.

He groaned as she lowered herself down onto him.

She stilled for a moment, shifting to clamp down on him better; Gaara gripped her hips and growled out something she didn't understand, but which she could guess was frustration. She wriggled again, smiling when he whimpered. He let out a string of words that _sounded_ crass; she couldn't understand a word he was saying. But that was to be expected.

She decided to move then, slowly rising and falling, then leaning forward to kiss him again. Her hips moved without her input, setting a pace that was less about bobbing up and down on him like she'd heard the other girls her age in the temple giggle about, and more about rolling her hips, swaying back and forth, and tilting her pelvis to move with each motion.

Maybe this was just the way she did it. But Gaara certainly seemed to like it, anyhow.

She sat up a little bit, rest her hands on his shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut.

His native language was more guttural than hers, so the sound of him rambling in her ears did more than make her shiver; she didn't need to know what he was saying to feel the intensity behind his words.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and Sakura made an effort to move faster but had to stop when he dug his fingers into her thighs; not hard enough to draw blood, but she was definitely going to be bruised in the morning.

He didn't respond to her questioning look, just flipped her onto her back and wrapped his arms around her, thrusting hard and fast into her immediately. He continued to mumble in that odd language of his; repeated words sounding familiar like curse words and hails to his god. Sakura eventually tuned it out, closing her eyes and just letting her body move instinctively with his, focusing on the friction between them.

All was right with the world while he continued to plough into her and she held on for dear life.

Then he had the audacity to _bite_ her! She squeaked, unable to pull away as his teeth sunk into her left breast. She hadn't even realised his face had moved from the crook of her neck. If possible, her reaction seemed to spur him to thrust his hips faster and she felt like crying; the sensations inside her were so overwhelming. The friction from their grinding bodies didn't compare to the heat that was now building inside her core. She'd never felt anything like this before.

Moaning, growling, and the sound of slapping; she was lost in the daze and euphoria as Gaara tried desperately to break the bed underneath her. Despite everything, a part of her was still trying to keep the noise level down. She cried out and immediately attempted to censor herself; his biting and vigorous enthusiasm to making her lose her mind weren't helping matters.

When Gaara finally started to slow, Sakura breathed out a contented sigh, smiling at nothing in particular as her body moved languidly with him for a few seconds. He was almost done; she squeaked again when Gaara bit her without warning, _again_. This time on her right breast.

He chuckled and reached up to kiss her as he slowly, tantalising, brought them both to completion; she felt an indescribable warmth between her legs, like liquid fire. Sakura whimpered and clenched, holding tighter to him, like her life depended on it. It wasn't until he groaned, carefully extracted himself from her hold, and rolled onto his side that she realised she'd had a death grip on him.

She hid her face in embarrassment and buried her head in the crook of his neck as he pulled her to him. He didn't chuckle at her, which she appreciated, just held her. Sakura was startled a few seconds later when he spoke; his words were accented thickly, but his meaning was clear.

"Thank-you."

She stared up at him, in surprise. But his eyes were closed. Had he understood her all along?

Gaara fell asleep before she could ask. And she watched him sleep. She'd heard it was true that men breathed from their stomachs instead of their diaphragm – it looked like that was true. His entire body was open and exposed for her perusal and she was totally focused on his stomach instead.

She sighed.

This entire thing seemed so irrational – one moment she was a model, well-behaved _chosen_ , and the next she was breaking the rules to sneak into a strange man's room and have her way with him. Her responsibilities were to her temple, her god, and her destiny. But what if this was a result of all three?

It felt right, but her analytical side was still trying to figure it out.

' _Lady Tsunade said not to assume what the gods want.'_

Had she assumed too much by thinking they brought Gaara to her? It was too much to be simply coincidental, the way they met during her hunt. The whole thing made her want to head back out there right now and finish it. She hadn't eaten anything in bestial form, so Sakura had been hungry all day. No matter how much human food she consumed, she _needed_ her other form to hunt and feed as well. It also retained her control over her chakra.

' _Maybe Gaara would hunt with me.'_

She smiled at that, trailing her hand over his body, memorising every inch of muscle and his shape. She knew he had to leave, but she didn't want to let him go. An irrational part of her thought to run off with him, but she quickly squashed it down. Hormones and instinct had never ruled her before and she be damned before letting it take over her now.

No.

There had to be another way.

But that was tomorrow's problem.

Sakura returned her focus to her lover, tracing his unblemished form; how he didn't have scars from his mandatory training as a chosen, she didn't know. But there was one thing he did have – other than the weird tattoo on his forehead – that stood out; another tattoo. Sakura ran her fingers over this mark, tracing the elongated symbol that marked his fate.

All the chosen warriors of the gods had one. They were marked upon their naming as god chosen, as a distinctively similar symbol; the name of their roles in the eyes of the gods carved into their skin in their native language being the only differences between them. Her own tattoo was on her shoulder; in the land of fire, it was carved into the same spot that the ANBU core had their tattoo on.

Gaara eventually stirred under her touch, and as Sakura moved her perusal of his body downwards, over his abdomen and between his legs, gently wrapping her hand around his flaccid member, hoping to get a rise out of him. As she did so, Sakura distractedly studied the foreign word adorning his tattoo. It was the same word that adorned her own tattoo, just in a distinctly chalky kind of language.

She mouthed the kanji, trying to pronounce the common tongue from the land of wind; she'd only ever seen these symbols in texts and lessons with her tutor. The written word was easier for her than the spoken. As a result, she did know some of the words – it was enough to pronounce it as she stumbled over the phonetics.

" _Jinchuriki_."

.:.

**Author's Note:**

> This reads a little like I attempted a plot but just went crazy at the end with PWP. ;)  
> I don't have the right muse to turn this into a continuous story, so please don't ask for a second chapter. I have enough to do right now. Also, I know I have Sakura in the land of fire, but she's not the kyuubi jinchuriki – that will always be Naruto for me. Just imagine she's the 2 or 3 tailed host. That's what I'm doing. There are 9 beasts but only 5 nations, so some could conceivably have more than their fair share (and 4 smaller ones, I know, but it doesn't make sense to me, for them to have such powerful beasts and still be small). :)  
> P.S.  
> If anyone is interested, there's a GaaSaku centred fest exchange in the works on tumblr. Sign ups are almost over so if you have a tumblr, check it out. The fest is being run by mika080 so just head over to her blog to find the links. The fest blog url name is: gaasaku-fanfests.  
> Cheers. ^_^


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